Practical Love
by Naoki1
Summary: Eowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, is good friends with Faramir of Gondor, yet when he comes to Edoras with his bride to be, she realises things weren't as simple as she thought... semi AU obviously...
1. Chapter One

Title: Practical Love   
  
Chapter: 1/?  
  
Author: Naoki / Naoki_pyromaniac@hotmail.com  
  
Rating/Warnings/Categories: PG-13, romance to the fifth fluffy heart degree, semi AU.   
  
Summary: Eowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, is good friends with Faramir of Gondor, yet when he comes to Edoras with his bride to be, she realises things weren't as simple as she thought...   
  
Author's Notes: This is pure, fluffy romance which I wrote over a brief period of time and I was inspired to write it by Fishton (find her in my favourite author's list) so this is for her I suppose. I'd also like to dedicate this fic to various happy couply people - Eowyn and Faramir are soulmates and I think it's nice to imagine that everyone will one day find their own - and I hope they have found their Aragorn, Arwen, Eowyn, Faramir, Frodo or Samwise or whatever...   
  
The AU Situation: In this semi-AU, Eowyn did not commit herself to Faramir during her time at Gondor and while she knew he felt deeply about her, thought that she could only offer friendship to him instead. Eomer is King of Rohan and unmarried, the behaviour of Rohan women in contrast to Gondor women is just my own interpretation but I do think Gondor women would be more inclined to dutiful behaviour towards their men for some reason...  
  
~*~  
  
Practical Love, Chapter One  
  
~*~  
  
The dream chased her even now, long after the battle, long after the House of Healing, Éowyn dreamt of the engulfing darkness. In her dream, she was merely a child, not strong enough to hold a sword and very unprotected. In her dream, the darkness held sway until the last moment, when she uncovered a brooch in the ground at her feet, a shape wrought in silver - and never could she remember it's shape - and then she always remembered what to do. In her dream, all she had to do was hold it in front of her, and walk proudly forwards, and she knew then, in her dream, that she was finding her way back to Edoras.   
  
And she woke; her hair clinging to her damp skin, feeling hot and flustered yet relived. Éowyn had once feared the dream, back in Gondor, where she had stood on the cool stone parapet, haunted, self-despising her weakness and the disappointment she felt when she realised she had abandoned her other duties for her own selfish pursuit of valor.   
  
Éomer had forgiven her and commended her bravery and skill, yet it had been a long time before Éowyn had fully accepted his words and with a sigh, she stepped out of bed and dressed in emerald coloured robes, selecting a wine coloured woven belt for contrast, leaving her hair loose.   
  
From her window she could see the sun rising over the crested mountains, a golden spot on blue sky, and she paused to wonder what Faramir would have made of it as the fields below rippled with colour. The dream's hold on her swayed her less now, and for the time being, she put it to one side and made her way to the main hall to speak with her brother, who sat up late so many nights now, poring over ancient texts and histories, unraveling the secrets and past of Rohan.   
  
She had already decided not to mention her dream to him nor mention how long it had plagued her.   
  
She found her brother sitting, surrounded by the wavering light of candles, hunched over many scrolls of parchment, his face showed his fatigue of Kingship, yet the glint of pride shone brightly as he read. Skilled as her brother was at the art of war, the art of diplomacy was only now being grasped fully and he had thrown himself into his tutorial with the same fierce determination he showed in the learning of fighting and defense, much to his sister's amusement and admiration.   
  
As soon as she entered, silently, save for the slightest rustle of her dress on the stone floor, he raised his head, haloed by a mane of gold, sleeker and more tamed than it had been before. He was dressed in formal robes, no armor nor weapon of war near him, except for the small sword that hung at his side and he gestured for her to sit opposite him as he shifted through the sea of ink and parchment until he found what he was looking for.   
  
"Gondor will be sending a diplomat to Rohan to speak about re-establishing trade routes" - Éomer exchanged a glance with Éowyn that told her that he would be sitting up at night reading all he could about trade laws, routes and histories for a long time to come - "It is as such that they are sending Lord Faramir to speak with me, he will be expected to stay here for about a month" he paused, as if considering a difficult phrase, then looked to her, apparently keeping his considerations to himself.   
  
"The Lord Faramir...?" Éowyn repeated, mainly for the benefit of herself, but Éomer could not mistake the warmth in her voice as she briefly recalled the man and his kindness in her brief period of healing in the city of Gondor. His intentions had been modest and pure, but tinted with a rich undercurrent of something that Éowyn had been too indifferent and reflective to realise at the time.   
  
She remembered, with more then a slight sense of guilt, that their parting which had been informal and warm, both expressing wishes to see the other again and at the time she had believed herself not to desire Faramir as anymore than a companion who shared many of her passions (well-known and otherwise) and as a friend in a world that was frequently unkind to her wishes and desires.   
  
And now Faramir was to come to Edoras.   
  
It was news that brought a great contentment to her but also doubt - she did not feel her heart fluttering at the mention of his name nor felt a wish to set about perfecting her appearance for his arrival - if he was to see her, then he would see her as she always was, she told herself firmly. It was true that she thought warmly of him, and they had written to each other, each taking a private delight and/or despair in the contrasts of emotions expressed and events described.   
  
Yet, she did not think herself to be in love with Faramir.   
  
Taking her leave from Éomer, she returned to her chambers to speak briefly with her handmaiden, Angharad, who was to prepare her formal robes of white for Faramir's arrival, as it was a political affair, she would, she admitted with a small degree of malcontent, be required to fulfill the ceremonial role of the White Lady of Rohan.   
  
She left to go riding later that afternoon with her brother, something they had done since they were young children, today however, they did not have to return hastily as no formal business was to be conducted that afternoon and Éowyn suspected her brother had arranged it that way in order to ask about Faramir and her thoughts of him, thinking that was what he had meant to bring up before in the main hall.   
  
Suprisingly, he spoke little until they returned and were in the stables, as he leant over to pick a strand of grass caught in her hair he muttered something that sounded, to Éowyn's uncanny hearing, like 'Alas, Faramir is a fool...' but he denied, venomously, that he had said anything.  
  
"Nay! You spoke of Faramir...explain your words, they seem in all contradiction to what you have said of him these past few months" she replied sternly, holding his gaze with equal hardness, Éomer was the first to look away, almost sheepishly as if he had been caught in some childish behaviour.   
  
"I should have told you honestly, dear sister, Lord Faramir does not travel to Edoras alone. He is bringing his betrothed with him" said Éomer, with a deep sigh that vexed Éowyn...it sounded to her as if he pitied her for some reason.   
  
"Do you think this troubles me?" she asked in a bright tone, Éomer's expression changed quite rapidly from amazement to placid interest within moments, and Eowyn smiled wryly. "Did you think I...do you think I love Faramir?" she asked, more seriously now as they both climbed the steps to the Golden Hall.   
  
"I know you think fondly of him...and I remember your friendship with him, and how you used to - how you still - speak of him frequently, and with great pride and pleasure too...yet, if the friendship is just friendship, I will say no more" answered Éomer, taking his leave with a briskness that indicated that he had put on his formality as soon as he had stepped into the Hall. The subtle changes in her brother's poise and voice, depending on the occasion, was a quality Éowyn had never inherited, nor had she desired to.   
  
With many matters on her mind, she left for her chambers in order to prepare for the evening meal, not quite sure why the fact that Faramir was coming to Edoras lay more heavily on her mind than it did before. 


	2. Chapter Two

~*~  
  
Practical Love, Chapter Two  
  
~*~  
  
The day of Faramir's arrival had come sooner than Éowyn had expected; though as she had to constantly remind herself, he did not come alone. In the brief period leading to his arrival her brother had been in frequent discussion with his advisors, leaving her alone on her daily rides for the past week or so, as she had no desire to stay indoors with the other noblewomen to embroider and incessantly prattle on. She was a practical woman so she had, as a young child, learnt a little needlecraft but had seen no real enjoyment in it.   
  
She reflected that Faramir's prospective wife probably did enjoy such things, and that in her role of hostess, she would have to endure such mindless pursuits as needlecraft and singing. She had seen a little of the women of Gondor during her stay and it seemed to her that they held themselves more aloof and shied away from the instruction of the blade or bow.   
  
Now it seemed all the prospective joy there could have been in Faramir's visit had been abruptly blown away, and to add to her concerns, her dreams had been dark of late. Almost like those of the time in Gondor, when she had stood so precariously between worlds...  
  
She paused, she did not often dwell on moments of weakness, as it usually led to self-doubt and Éowyn did not doubt things for a moment. Yet something in Éomer's words that day had made her falter, and mis-step her place in relation to Faramir, perhaps she did love him...perhaps she didn't. Either way, it was ill advised to say anything now.   
  
These blunt and saddened thoughts were interrupted by Angharad who was fussing over her, much delighted by Éowyn (wearily but with some anticipation) agreeing to let her prepare her fully for the arrival of Faramir and his betrothed.   
  
"Lady, you are lovely but you would be beautiful if only you smiled a little" Angharad reprimanded "Never have I seen such a sun-kissed face that seemed so much like a stormy sky!"  
  
"I apologise and admit this visit seems more of a labour than any pleasure...I expect Faramir will have much to do with introducing his betrothed and reaching various agreements with my brother. I shall hope against hope that his betrothed likes horses, and detests the weaving of thread," said Éowyn, with more than a touch of dourness.   
  
Angharad chuckled, knowing Éowyn's distaste for sewing and other activities of the sort - unless they had purpose, like the sole fruit of her efforts - a tapestry of a verse of poetry on the nature of valor and honor. It was elegantly coloured and reflected the nature of Éowyn and Éomer for perfection, even in the things they did not enjoy doing.   
  
Finally, dressed in white that trailed across the floor, and a golden pattern of leaves that gently accentuated her waist, Éowyn left to greet Faramir and his wife-to-be.  
  
~*~  
  
Upon entering the main hall, Éowyn observed her brother in formal robes of state greeting Faramir warmly, he had not changed so much from the last time she had seen him, much to her joy yet she felt herself apply subconscious restraint when she saw at his side a woman with autumn coloured hair, a slight blush on her cheeks and a figure that suggested natural grace.   
  
She almost stepped back, feeling self-conscious and within a moment was bemused that she who had been in battle and war was afraid to step into a room with her brother, a friend and a timid stranger inside, and with a little more determination than she intended, she walked into the room as if she had not paused at all. Éomer turned to introduce her, and smiled in approval of her appearance and in appreciation of her efforts, but was fluidly stopped by Eowyn who formally, if slightly coolly, introduced herself.   
  
"My sister is...an independent and proud woman, like most in Rohan" explained Éomer with a great sense of pride, misreading the tawny haired woman's expression which Éowyn correctly interpreted as one of vague shock and distaste and instinctively she felt, with a certain sense of satisfaction, that all her preconceptions being fulfilled.   
  
"Well...Lady Éowyn, this is my betrothed, Rowan of Gondor" replied Faramir smoothly, his expression unmoving and unwilling to tell what might be underneath the surface, much to the disappointment and frustration of Éowyn. He did not hold her gaze either, looking at the side of her or right through her but never directly and equally.   
  
Éowyn felt her shoulders lower a little as if she were in despair, yet she felt remarkably calm and content with idle and trivial talk of the doings in Gondor - Faramir had glad tidings that Arwen and Elessar had begot a child due in a short time - and Éowyn felt an unfamiliar sensation of wistfulness, turning away to the polished stone floor in an effort to shake it away, when she felt her cheeks burn slightly to see Rowan and Faramir hand in hand, smiling as they delivered this news.   
  
All these years and she had never yearned for a lover, even now she doubted the sincerity of her feelings yet something told her that false emotions did not hurt so much, or affect the heart in such drastic ways. Still on the surface she remained as warm as she could be given her nature, and helped her brother the best she could. It hurt her that Faramir barely seemed to recognise her as he once did and indeed, indicated that he regretted his past behaviour most grievously but she reminded herself sternly to serve Rohan before she served her own desires.   
  
Making early excuses to leave, saying that she would need time to prepare herself for the evening feast, she stood to leave, frowning to herself as she heard Rowan excuse herself, likewise, and follow her. She walked with her head downcast, moving in a way that made the hem of her dress flutter and Éowyn saw, even in the bleached sunlight of early spring, that substances had been delicately applied to highlight her features. With a malicious sense of anticipation, Éowyn wondered how such a pampered creature would live in the homely comforts of the Golden Hall.   
  
"Faramir speaks highly of you, as do many in Gondor" said Rowan at length as they walked side by side, each rapidly finding faults with the other in a speed that would leave most confused yet impressed and with the most trivial of flaws a matter of personal victory for the other. "Yet many women, particularly nobles, find the art of the blade an unwomanly pursuit"   
  
"Women may be cut down by swords in times of war, even those who cannot or will not defend themselves" replied Éowyn swiftly, feeling that the woman was deliberately judging her temperament but she simply let the calm wash over her, over the turmoil further beneath.   
  
"An intelligent sentiment and one that I do not find fault with" answered Rowan, drawing aside her cloak to reveal a sword in a simple leather sheath. "I will protect what is mine, with all the weapons made available to me - intellect and anger...good day to you, Lady Éowyn" said Rowan with a small smile that only added to the underlying meaning Éowyn had built up in her mind, a flush of rage took hold of her and compelled her to storm back to her chambers, very ill humored.  
  
Sitting at her dressing table, a dark look that some in Rohan recognised as one they usually saw before a cascade of stars or heard a verbal, scathing and stinging attack flickered on her face briefly but Éowyn pushed it away firmly, gathering her breath and composure.   
  
She only does it because she knows...she read my emotions because I let my guard down, thinking her too ignorant and self centered to even try and locate my weaknesses...  
  
She paced for a while in the cool chamber, gathering her thoughts, and was reminded, painfully, of Faramir's behaviour. His cool glances and tense replies to her questions had been indication enough that he wished to avoid her as much as possible, even remembering it seemed to bring a little misery to Éowyn, and she silently berated herself.   
  
She had given up her chance at the House of Healing where...she had fallen apart, so many things had come to a head during that time it seemed unfair that Faramir had come to her then...when she was repairing the damage done, healing her emotional wounds. He had came to her as if in a dream, and walked with her in the gardens, telling her little stories about his childhood with his brother who he always recalled with a tone of great sadness.   
  
"Boromir the Fair..." she whispered to herself, knowing how she had begun to grow fond of the young man, knowing that she would quite possibly die of heartbreak if Eomer suddenly died so far from home, leaving her in an uncertain world.   
  
She had tried to keep her feelings away as she had spoken with him and Rowan, not sure if her feelings were true yet she knew, for ill intent or not, she loved him and always had, in a way, felt that way about him.   
  
And she knew, with a heart of lead, that it was too late to tell him. 


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Practical Love  
  
Chapter: 3/?  
  
Author: Naoki / Naoki_pyromaniac@hotmail.com  
  
Rating/Warnings/Categories: PG-13, romance to the fifth fluffy heart degree, semi AU.   
  
Summary: Eowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, is good friends with Faramir of Gondor, yet when he comes to Edoras with his bride to be, she realises things weren't as simple as she thought...   
  
Author's Notes: More pure, fluffy romance! Faramir introduces his bride (boo!) and Eowyn finds herself at odds with conflicting emotions...will it all turn out happily? Probably, as am flaky romantic at heart...  
  
~*~  
  
Practical Love, Chapter Three  
  
~*~  
  
Sleepiness had prowled in Éowyn's chambers, waiting with a bag full of dreams, and it was not long before Éowyn fell asleep, thinking to herself that it was unnatural for her to feel so weary so early in the afternoon. Darkness fell in her mind's eye as dusk fell on Rohan, and she woke to a soft tapping on her door, her heart beating wildly against her chest.   
  
Her left hand ached a little and she realised with little surprise that she had it tightly clenched as if she had been holding something in her dream, she shook her head and her hair fell limp against her damp skin as she sat up, wondering if Faramir had come to speak with her.   
  
"Come in...I am dressed" she called, gripping her wrist and feeling a sharp twinge of pain. The door opened and Éomer entered with an expression of concern on his face. "What is wrong?" asked Éowyn softly, her smile faltering.   
  
"I came to ask you that very question, sister, you seemed split in two minds before...which you usually are when something troubles you" he said, pulling a chair opposite her to sit down on, which he did without taking his eyes off her.   
  
"Nothing troubles me..." - said in an air of irritation that indicated the exact opposite of the words.   
  
"Not Faramir's arrival or choice of companion?" questioned Éomer, noticing Eowyn's grimace.   
  
"No, I do admit I thought...that I loved him but it was a moment of, of uncertainty on my part. It's nothing...Lady Rowan is a...intelligent woman and a suited match for Faramir's personality" said Éowyn firmly, holding her brother with a look that would have made him retreat from the topic immediately but he could not forget that pained expression from before so quickly.   
  
"Remember my promise to you in Gondor?" he asked quietly, Éowyn looked up at him wide eyed and pensive but Éomer was not sure if the expression came from the laboured tone he used or the memories it stirred. "How you told me you feared to be alone and I promised not to take a wife until you had taken a husband? We have never talked so openly about our emotions nor our pasts and futures since then...and I remember how bleak you seemed, how distant...I do not want you to fall into that trap again-"  
  
"I will not..." replied Éowyn quickly, holding her brother's hands tightly "Thank you, brother...I promise you that I do not carry any unhappiness within me...I will meet you in the feasting hall in an hour" said Éowyn, tactfully leading him to the door where he left with some reluctance.   
  
She felt herself draw in her breath and hold it far too long before she called for Angharad.   
  
~*~  
  
Faramir reflected darkly that little could have prepared him for his arrival at Edoras, from the moment he had entered the place and seen her, dressed in white with golden hair to her waist, simply standing there and being the world to him at the same time, he knew that he shouldn't have come.   
  
And she didn't even realise it.   
  
He had been cool and impartial, trying not to let the kiss on her hand linger, trying not to hold her gaze for longer than a brief moment...still, Rowan had been especially cold towards him since the morning and the afternoon ride they had gone on was tainted with Rowan's quiet emotions of animosity.   
  
He felt the beginnings of a headache and wondered why he had let his relationship with Rowan become more than he had ever meant it to be and imeddiately squashed the unkind thought before it was half formed yet he had the nagging doubt within himself, asking if he had really thought he could forget Éowyn by putting Rowan in her place?   
  
It was true they had many traits in likeness but where Rowan was tender, Éowyn was kind. The same trait, yet different in some way. His marriage to Rowan was to take place as soon as he returned to Gondor, yet Faramir still wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing. He loved Rowan and she loved him...wasn't that better than spending a life in pursuit of someone he could never have?   
  
He should never have come to Edoras, he realised. His commitment was made to another though, and Faramir knew even with Éowyn on his mind, that he had not entered such a commitment lightly. Rowan loved him...he loved her, that was enough to make a union work, was it not?  
  
~*~  
  
An hour later, Éowyn was ready, dressed in brilliant white material that seemed to glow in the dim light of the corridors and on her head sat a small crown but much to her chagrin, Angharad had hidden the small ornamental sword she often wore with her formal dresses as a mark of her status as a Shieldmaiden so she felt curiously light and wary as she entered the hall, lit with the light of hundreds of candles which were reflected by the many decorative shields and swords, bearing the helm of Rohan, hanging on the walls.   
  
"Éowyn!" called Eomer, swiftly reaching her with another man, who was tawny haired with light, blue eyes that seemed to dart about until they settled quite firmly on her, they studied her and seemed to see all she was and Éowyn shivered even in the warmth of the hall - "This is Aldwyn of Gondor, a advisor to Lord Faramir, he has been to Rohan many times and speaks our language better than any of Gondor. Aldwyn, this is my sister, Lady Éowyn"   
  
"Good evening, Lady Éowyn...Shieldmaiden of Rohan. I am honoured to meet you," said Aldwyn softly, lifting Éowyn's hand as if to kiss it yet he was not perturbed when she drew it back, unsure of him. He was a true advisor, and knew how to bend words to his will...like Grima had. He seemed young for such a position of responsibility yet perhaps that was part of his talents; Éowyn paused in her assessment of him to gaze at her brother who seemed eager to leave them alone together, something in Éowyn's mind clicked.   
  
By the Valar...he can not be proposing himself as my matchmaker! I will not allow it!   
  
Excusing herself as politely as she could, she went to sit at her place at Éomer's side, beyond the empty seat, to her right sat a weary looking Faramir. Rowan appeared to be in a corner, talking with various nobles of Rohan and silently they sat, both thinking to themselves that the distance between them seemed so insignificant yet so vast, until Faramir cleared his throat.   
  
"I should apologise for my behaviour this morning, it must have seemed very distant and informal...after our friendship in Gondor"  
  
"I did not notice" Éowyn replied, equally blank and rigid in tone and form. "Tell me about that man over there, Aldwyn, my brother said he had come with you"  
  
"Yes, but I do not think he would have had it another way..." said Faramir with wistful amusement, as if recalling a fond memory of Aldwyn's insistence "He is a scholar of your history and language, only five and twenty years but his education made him invaluable to us...and us unable to argue otherwise were persuaded to bring him, I hope he hasn't been bothering you"  
  
"Nay! He just seems so young to be so important" explained Éowyn with a small smile, reflecting on Aldwyn's 'insistence' - perhaps he had disguised his own desires by exploiting desire to serve his country? Éowyn knew she had rode to Pelennor Fields with only the desire to serve Rohan in her heart, yet afterwards, she had felt ashamed of her behaviour...she had abandoned her other duties to the disobedience of everyone for her own wishes  
  
While she knew her own wishes had included her desire to serve Rohan in battle - it was the mixing of the two that troubled her, a warrior's heart in battle should be pure...not marred by doubt or consideration of purpose. Rohan should have been her only thought that day, but so many other things had crossed her mind...especially when-  
  
She was abruptly broken away from her thoughts as Éomer sat beside her and began talking to her. Fatigue seemed to wash over her again, like tepid water, and much earlier than was customary and polite, she left feeling oddly light headed.   
  
She reached the cool hallway that led to her chamber, despite all lights seeming misty and blinding to her vision, and she felt her body shaking, betraying her mind, which began to ache so much with trying to stand up and stay up. A moment later, she felt herself sitting on the floor, leaning on the cold wall, panting as if her tongue was withered at the root.   
  
"It's alright," said a voice, softly in her ear. "I'll take you to your chambers...shush..."   
  
She felt someone's arm around her waist, and felt her arm being wrapped around someone's shoulder as if they were going to carry her, despite her weakly voiced objections. "Aldwyn...just fetch my brother or Angharad or-"  
  
"It's Faramir, Éowyn...I followed you, you did not seem well when you left and..."  
  
Éowyn couldn't remember if he trailed off and left things unsaid or if the darkness washed over her but the next thing she could clearly recall was a soft, cool blanket being laid over her. She had not been changed, but wore only the under-robe she wore beneath her dress; her hair had been brushed to one side and loosely gathered and bound. Someone was with her.   
  
"Faramir...?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Good" was all Éowyn managed to reply before she finally fell asleep.   
  
~*~  
  
Everything was black, except for the sun, which was a blazing white, burning with a shimmering heat. The soil beneath her feet was black, dry and prickly as she ran, lost in a world of darkness. Nowhere for her to hide, and even though she was dressed in white, she shone like a star. She stumbled, tears flowing though had hardly ever cried in the waking world yet here they seemed all too frequent. Her hands fell in front of her, grasped a recognisable yet unfamiliar shape, it was a silver brooch.   
  
In her dream, Éowyn stood up, no longer a defenseless child. In her dream, she looked at the brooch in her hand, never had she been able to see it so clearly and she wondered why it had never been obvious to her before. In her hand, which seemed surrounded by an aura of glowing light, she held a brooch that she recognised instantly. The White Tree of Gondor, a brooch and design she had first seen on Faramir's armor that day in Gondor...  
  
She awoke to soft voices and a cool hand upon her forehead.   
  
~*~  
  
"You slept for so long, I was afraid we might have lost you," said Angharad later that morning, "And you missed the departure of Lord Faramir and Lady Rowan-"  
  
"Did I? How long have I slept for?" asked Éowyn, sitting up at a speed that made her bones and joints cry out in protest. "Surely not a month has gone past...surely he would not have left knowing how ill I was..." she spoke partly to herself and herself alone as she felt her heart beating, like a terrified bird, in her chest.  
  
"No longer than a few days, but they finished the talks early and it seemed to the Lord Faramir and Lady Rowan that they should return to Gondor in order to marry...it is many days away yet, and you are to leave as soon as you are well enough so rest until you have the strength to do something about your worries"  
  
Éowyn conceded the wisdom in her words, yet felt frustrated in the way her mind and body had betrayed her but it was only a passing phrase compared to the tremendous feeling of heartache that seemed to permeate her spirit and draw it out, making her feel empty inside.   
  
~*~  
  
A few days later,, Éomer and Éowyn began their journey to Gondor to attend the wedding of Faramir and Rowan, both remained more or less silent during the trip - Éowyn tending to her private heartache, Éomer regretting his decision to agree to let Aldwyn stay on after the others had left as the youth talked endlessly of obscure historical facts and legends. Éomer had never felt his country was such a wearisome subject, but in Aldwyn's hands, it was a fearsome weapon indeed.   
  
Éowyn rode on, reflecting darkly on Rowan's early promise to protect what was hers...she had no doubt that the other woman had planned it this way and wondered, bitterly, why she wanted to keep them apart even though she had Faramir's complete attention and affection...it was possible that not even friendship would be permitted now.   
  
And that would be unbearable. 


	4. Chapter Four

Title: Practical Love   
  
Chapter: 1/?  
  
Author: Naoki / Naoki_pyromaniac@hotmail.com  
  
Rating/Warnings/Categories: PG-13, romance to the fifth fluffy heart degree, semi AU.   
  
Summary: Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, is good friends with Faramir of Gondor, yet when he comes to Edoras with his bride to be, she realises things weren't as simple as she thought...   
  
Author's Notes: Sorry about this chapter…it most serves as a way of getting things in perspective as things are prepared for the wedding and besides, it means I can have the required elf cameos…^_~ Thank you to those who have reviewed…I think there's about three chapters left now and they're nearly done! Hooray!  
  
~*~  
  
Practical Love, Chapter Four  
  
~*~  
  
The morning was grey with brittle rays of white, bleached light that shone onto the White City which allowed the preparations for the wedding to continue as planned, and as bridegroom, Faramir found it safer and less troublesome to seek refuge from the haste and stress of wedding planning.   
  
So now he strolled through the gardens of the Houses of Healing alone, like he had once...with a wistful smile, he realised he could barely recall the time that had passed since he had met Éowyn, broken and despairing at the way her spirit strained under the pressure and ill health of her body, it seemed like a long time yet the memory was as fresh and brief as it ever had been...   
  
And he remembered clearly, with a pang of guilt, the day he had met Rowan, singing in the gardens quietly to herself.   
  
She dressed so modestly compared to most women of Gondor with a love for elvish poetry and a formidable intellect which made her a constant companion in games and reading with Queen Arwen, she had first resisted his attentions quite firmly, thinking he only wished to ease himself into the bed of another woman through her.   
  
He remembered her plain distress when they were together, and spoke even briefly of another woman, and he remembered her silent tears as she told him she never thought herself deserving of such a man as Faramir, that she never thought she would be able to accept any commitment from him and how she had accepted it, taking his token gift to her. A rock he had found in the fields as a young boy, he had picked from the ground because of it's smooth likeness to the shape of a heart, and hung on a silver chain for her.   
  
Commitment. Faithfulness. Somehow he knew whatever happened in three days time, he would forsake at least one of these notions if he did not give up his infatuation with Éowyn. No longer could he break his commitment but his nature would not allow unfaithfulness to his wife-to-be...but he was also acutely aware that his heart was not completely committed to this promise...it put things in a new light and he found himself thinking-  
  
No, he told himself firmly, he could not simply ruin so many lives with what could be a foolish mistake. Did not all bridegrooms have reservations about marriage? He tried to take comfort in that, for he knew he would not like to seek out advice from another, married, man - knowing that he would not like to hear King Elessar's opinion on that particular subject anyway.   
  
~*~  
  
After the usual chores of formal arrival in Gondor, Éowyn had made her own way to the Houses of Healing as if to indulge her sentimental tendencies and to get away from the bustling preparations being made the wedding, she had left her brother with Aldwyn who was keen for Éomer to look at some of his papers written on the lore of Rohan.   
  
She felt like an outsider in a familiar land here, she seemed to trail whispers as she went about her own business privately and it was if the women made no attempt to hide their comments from her. Few were complimentary but she held her head steady.   
  
As it was the women were mostly gathering in the Palace gardens to witness an archery tournament between the few elves that had remained behind and forsaken the land across the ocean and the men of Gondor. Ladies clucked their tongues indulgently, commenting on how predictable all this manly behaviour was.   
  
Éowyn wondered absentmindedly if Éomer would take part but she doubted so, he was more skilled with spear and sword, weapons suited to horseback. The flowers in the Gardens of Healing were mingled with herbs which gave the air a pleasant minty smell in the spring sunshine.  
  
Éowyn heard a tiny splash and hastened her pace to see what it was; Faramir sitting on a stone bench, flicking pebbles into a pool of water with every feature of discontent.   
  
"Ah...Éowyn, I had not heard of your arrival, I apologise for not being present" he said, offering her a small smile. She sat beside him, casting a look at the small pile of pebbles at Faramir's side.   
  
"I heard the talks went well" said Éowyn as Faramir smiled once again.   
  
"To be honest, Éowyn, I do believe Rohan was glad to be rid of Aldwyn...but yes, the talks were very successful - for both Rohan and Gondor"   
  
Faramir flicked another pebble into the water where it skimmed a few times before disappearing with a plop, inertia having finally claimed it.   
  
"Me and my brother would compete in this game, seeing who could make his stone go further...he was my friend" he said quietly, yet Éowyn knew she had not mistaken the slight break in his voice at the past tense.   
  
"I-" Éowyn began but she fell silent as Faramir sprang up to greet Rowan who seemed glacier cool to his swift and gentle embrace but as he turned back to see Éowyn, she was gone.  
  
~*~  
  
"Lord Éomer, will you be joining us in showing these first born who the better archers are?" asked a nobleman as he made his way towards the Houses of Healing, having only just managed to make an excuse to not view Aldwyn's modal of what he called a mechanical bird, somehow he knew Éowyn would have gone to the place in Gondor that offered her the most comfort.   
  
Yet...archery was a tempting offer, and Éomer promised himself that one shot of the bow would not cost him his sister yet his guilt was not fully relived until he entered the gardens and saw her, standing partly between the men preparing their bows and partly between the women who all held some sort of shading equipment that Éomer had never seen before.   
  
"Oh...those are umbrellas -- young Aldwyn invented them, all the ladies have them" the man informed him as they passed a few elves, Éomer recognised the noble elf-lord, Celeborn and one of the Princes of Mirkwood, Legolas who had obviously came to be witness to the wedding to come.   
  
"I based them on ancient elvish designs...so they are not my own invention" interrupted Aldwyn, who had apparently followed them outside, a faint pink rising in his face as some of the women smiled at him. "I am too easily swayed by women, I admit" he said wistfully, looking at Éowyn with a hopeful glance that Éomer, eyes so sharp when detecting a tear in a saddle or a weakness in his enemies armour, did not see.   
  
"But diplomats are never swayed!" replied the nobleman in booming, self-important tones. "And certainly never by the fairer sex! Let them know their place...but never let them know their power, Aldwyn"  
  
Aldwyn muttered that he would keep that in mind and stalked away to Éowyn who seemed glad to see a genuinely friendly face and they spoke animatedly to each other until Faramir and Rowan joined the group.   
  
Éomer was unsurprised at the results of the tournament and he was pleased for Legolas' victory although he could not help but be slightly ruffled at Legolas' offer to help him with his archery.   
  
"The Lady Éowyn is well, I trust?" Legolas asked as they watched a few of the other elves display their more fanciful skills with the bow - skewering apples in midair and the such - Éomer paused, watching as his sister finally turned back to Aldwyn to continue their conversation.   
  
"Nay...I do feel that coming to Gondor at such a time, after her illness, was a mistake but she, the more stubborn, persuaded me to come..."  
  
"Determination brought her to Gondor for the second time" said the elf sagely, without a touch of humour.   
  
Éomer smiled outwardly at the subtle wordplay, and with an uneasy feeling he wondered if determination had brought Éowyn to fight again at Gondor before pushing those thoughts away firmly.   
  
By the feast that night, he had completely forgotten the elf's words.   
  
~*~  
  
Faramir took his seat at the feast in the evening with a great deal of trepidation, wedding decisions that apparently had had to be made months ago were only now coming to him and he found himself quite out of his depth, so he felt relived to find the guest to his right was the elf Celeborn, Lord of Lothlorien.   
  
Faramir had heard of his decision to remain in Middle-Earth while the rest of his kind left for the Grey Havens and, privately, Faramir wondered why, it was rude to inquire about such a matter but the conversation soon turned to the elvish flight to the Grey Havens as Celeborn described the ship in detail to Aldwyn who sat opposite, his next words however were for Faramir.  
  
"There are many journeys that we take, and finding that we rather would be alone, we quickly come to appreciate the company we do have..." said Celeborn quietly, "Yet it is always wise to select your company with a true heart...lest you forget how to love and who to love"  
  
There was much in Celeborn's words upon which to dwell and Faramir spent most of the feast wondering if he had chosen the right path, he was also unnerved by the feeling that Celeborn had seen right into him as he watched Éowyn enter the feasting hall and had altered his words to suit.   
  
Silence had once been his refuge but now it binded him tightly, trapped him in himself but what good would it do to talk about it now...if only in passing? 


End file.
